


#1: Sweet, #2: Tart

by outsideth3box



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 100-1000 Words, Episode Related, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Incest, M/M, Pre-Slash, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-26
Updated: 2010-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-08 07:59:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outsideth3box/pseuds/outsideth3box
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has an idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#1: Sweet, #2: Tart

**Author's Note:**

> These are two different version of the same story, one sweet, one... tart.  
> **Posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/slashthedrabble/profile)[**slashthedrabble**](http://community.livejournal.com/slashthedrabble/) Challenge #123: Sweet and/or Sour**  
> Wordcount: 2 x 500  
> Disclaimer: not mine, no profit, no infringement intended.

  
Sweet

  
Dean slowed the Impala to a halt just past the old bridge on 9 Mile Road, just as Sam said, "So..." but he trailed off, head bowed and blushing furiously. Dean waited, eyebrows raised, for about a split second, then threw open the door and walked back to rifle through the trunk.

When Sammy failed to meet him there to arm himself, Dean grabbed the shotgun and a handful of rocksalt shells, slammed the trunk closed and climbed back into the car.

"Hey, bro, 'sup?" Dean thought his brother looked flustered and oddly young, and shook off a strange urge to brush Sam's hair back from his face.

Clearing his throat roughly, Sam said, "I... had an idea. How we might lure the Hook Man to come to us." He trailed off again.

"Well? Give it to me, genius."

"The records said the Reverend went crazy over the prostitutes in the brothel, so it's reasonable to think he might react the same to any behavior he considered immoral."

"Stands to reason, yeah."

Sammy cleared his throat again, "What if we... uh... you and I." Suddenly it came out in a rush, "We could probably make him pretty crazy by making out."

Dean blinked slowly, stunned by Sam's suggestion. Moreso by Sam making the suggestion than by the idea itself. Truth be told, he thought of Sammy as his. His own. He always had and he always would and the short step across that fine line didn't bother him near as much as he'd have sworn it did, the thought come from someone else.

Dean threw his arm across the back of the seat and dropped his hand onto Sammy's neck, rubbing his knuckles lightly across the short hair there. He could feel goosebumps pop up on the soft skin, and Sam stiffened and turned to him, eyes wide, questioning.

"Yeah, Sammy, let's give it a shot."

He watched Sam lick his lips nervously; watched the wet shine appear on his lips and the pink tip of his tongue disappear into his mouth. Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips to the soft moisture and curled his palm around the back of Sam's neck, gripping tight.

Sam moaned low and sweet and his lips parted and Dean slid his own tongue into his brother's hot mouth. Hot rushes of sensation were racing through his body. Dean brought his hands to cradle Sam's face and dove into the kiss with a desperate noise.

Strong, warm arms surrounded him, hands grasped at his shoulder blades. Dean tore his mouth free, panting, and felt Sam's harsh breath on his neck, teeth nipping at his earlobe.

Christ, he was hard enough to pound nails. Reaching between his brother's legs, he felt an answering hardness and threw himself upright and twisted the ignition key.

"Hook Man's not the one who's a little crazy right now, bro, but I'll tell ya one thing," Dean smirked as he pointed the car toward their motel. "You are a genius."

  
Tart

  
Dean growled under his breath and stepped on the gas. Not far now to 9 Mile Road, deal with this Hook Man and get the fuck out of here and on to the next thing. All these squeaky clean college twinks made his skin itch.

His stomach tightened as he remembered Sammy slouching through the university library like he was one of them. Made him want to slam his brother against a wall and... remind him where he belonged. Who he belonged to.

That chick who'd brought the boxes had given Sam the eye. Not that Dean wouldn't nail her, given the chance, but he would be damned if the slut was getting her hands on Sammy.

Pulling to a halt and turning off the ignition, Dean flicked a glance at his brother, silent, hands fisted in his lap. Dammit, if Sam was having second thoughts about Hunting, about going back to school, about leaving again...

Dean slammed his hand against the steering wheel and Sam jumped. "I'm gonna go grab the shotgun."

Sam appeared at the back of the car, leaning in close, speaking into Dean's ear as if to shield his words from eavesdroppers, "I had an idea."

Shotgun in hand, Dean slammed the trunk shut and leaned back against the car. "Well? Give it to me, genius."

"The records said the Reverend went crazy over the prostitutes in the brothel. It's reasonable to think he might react the same to any behavior he considered immoral."

"Stands to reason, yeah."

Sam raised his head, gazing straight into Dean's eyes. "We could... lure him." His wide, dark pupils and slight, smirking grin were taunting.

His breath rushed out with the hot explosion of lust in his groin, and Dean licked his suddenly dry lips, thinking, yes, fuck, Sammy, yes, at his brother's sly tone. He hooked his fingers through Sammy's belt loops and pulled their hips together with a groan. Sam grunted softly, rubbing himself against Dean, mouth falling open, slack.

"Hook Man might not be the only one that would make a little crazy, bro," Dean murmured, and leaned forward, nipping at his baby brother's lush bottom lip. He watched Sam's eyelids drop, then snap open. He reached around Sam's waist and pulled him closer. "Easy, bro, I got your back, huh?"

In response to his brother's assurance, Sam let his eyes fall closed and rested his cheek against Dean's briefly, then slowly slid to his knees.

The feel of Sammy's hands on his belt and his face rubbing against his crotch had Dean hard enough to pound nails, his heavy breathing harsh in the cool night air. Once Sammy had his brother's pants open, he wasted no time wrapping his lips around the rock hard erection his found there.

Threading the fingers of his free hand through Sammy's hair with a low moan at the slick heat on his cock, Dean kept his eyes on his surroundings, shotgun ready.

Oh yeah. Sammy was a genius, all right.


End file.
